Bulletproof Weeks
by BreyerRose
Summary: Sometimes love just isn't enough. Neither one know how they are making it without the other, but they both know that they can't keep doing this.


~Hey guys, this is a new pairing I'm trying out. I figured you might be getting a lil sick of Alex & Chris so I decided to spread my wings a bit. Please, please, please let me know what you think. As usual I don't own anybody.... :( This is very loosely based on Matt Nathanson's song of the same name. Enjoy, please review~

~Bulletproof Weeks~

AJ tossed and turned. He pulled the blanket up to his chin. But a minute later he flung it off and flipped onto his stomach. He tugged the pillow over his head hoping to finally relax. Another minute ticked by and he rolled onto his back. He yanked the covers up again, pulling them over his head. Encased in darkness he allowed his ocean blue eyes to open. It was difficult to breathe in the blanket cocoon but he kind of liked it that way. He heaved a sigh and mentally shouted at himself. He should be sleeping; by all rights he should've been dead to the world. He couldn't remember when the last time he'd gotten a good night's rest was. Well, he could. He just didn't like to think back on that time. It was hard for him to comprehend that it'd been nearly 8 months.

AJ sat up, the blankets collected around his waist. He didn't bother with the light on the stand beside the bed. He stood; the thick plush carpet didn't even register on his bare feet. He went out onto the terrace leaving the French doors open. Leaning heavily on the black iron fence AJ began to tremble in the balmy Georgia night. He couldn't keep doing this. He felt like a stranger in their home… HIS home. He felt like a complete stranger in _his _own home. He felt like a complete stranger in his own life. He knew it wasn't healthy, knew that if anyone could see him now they'd probably give up on him. As it was, there were only a few people who didn't believe he was a lost cause entirely yet. The worst part was; it was all his fault.

He had asked AJ if he should go; and AJ had said yes. No hesitation, no thought of what ifs, no discussions of how to deal with the lonely nights away from each other. He had asked for his freedom and AJ had instantly given it to him, with the classic belief that love conquers all. AJ never doubted, never distrusted. He'd never given AJ any reason to. The silver ring on AJ's finger indicated just the opposite. Even now the young Georgia native looked down and expected to see the band still around his left ring finger. He shook his head and went back inside. As long as sleep continued to elude him he'd start to pack. His flight back to Orlando wasn't early, but the airport didn't house ghosts from a not so distant past. He pulled his suitcase out of his closet and began to place his clothes in it.

The Impact Zone wasn't as bad as the empty house in Georgia, but AJ still shuddered when he walked in. He really didn't know how he was still able to face either.

"Hey you," Terry greeted. The war machine's smile was huge like he was trying to show he had some extra for AJ to take and use.

"Hi." AJ replied quietly. It wasn't his natural tone, but it had become the one the boys were most familiar with.

"How was your weekend?" Terry inquired, smile faltering just a bit.

"Fine. I caught up on my laundry. How was yours?"

"Good, good."

AJ nodded and transferred a few things from his bag to his locker. Terry watched him helplessly, it was routine now. The gruff Detroit man beast watched and waited for his young friend to simply fall apart. Despite the saying time heals all wounds, it was clear AJ was not healing.

The door crashed opened. A tangled mass of brunette and dark blonde all but fell into the Frontline's entry. There were soft whimpers of pleasure, the distinct pulling of one set of hips closer to another, the interweaving of nimble fingers in dark blonde hair, and an all too clear sigh when a set of kiss swollen lips moved to the exposed column of a wonderfully creamy neck.

Alex could not stop the way the whisper fell out of his mouth while he leaned his head back against the door. "Chris."

"Ahem!" Terry coughed loudly. "Guys." He flicked his eyes to AJ.

Both tag partners blushed, stepping away from each other. AJ quickly went back to his locker. He could take watching the two X-division stars make out. That was hardly an issue anymore. What bothered him most was the feeling that radiated off both boys in huge crashing waves. They had such love, such passion that it filled the entire room like water filling the cabins of the Titanic. AJ was already choking, drowning. He had to escape. He needed to breathe. He shut his locker and fled to the hallway.

"AJ," he heard someone call, but then lost it when he gasped for air.

A few more shuddering lungfulls and he picked up the conversation again.

"Jesus can't you two control yourselves? You know what he's going through!"

"Sorry," Alex apologized.

"We didn't know he was here already," Chris said.

AJ hurried to the entrance ramps and made his way down to the six sided ring. He jumped over the security wall and sat down on the cement floor leaning back against the barricade. If only he could hide like this from his memories.

They plagued him, taunted him. Like bullies on a school playground, they were relentless. His mind was jumbled in flashes and bits of conversations. Cherished tender intimates and stupid laughable moments from the course of their 2 ½ years assaulted him. Closing his eyes only made them more vivid.

He couldn't keep doing this.

~XXX ~

Christian eased the crick out of his neck. He'd stopped even attempting to sleep and spent his nights sitting in his chair allowing the television to play whatever it felt like. The sun was just switching shifts with the moon, but the curtains were sealed tight against the bright Canadian morning. Christian reached up and began to knead the stiff muscles in the nape of his neck with the tips of his fingers. They brushed against the leather braid and inched to the front wrapping around the silver band that dangled from the corded necklace. He had to squeeze his sky blue eyes against their threatening rain. He dropped the ring like it burnt and grimaced when it tapped against his bare chest. He'd been wearing the ring threaded on a necklace for almost 8 months now. He gritted his teeth as a few rain drops slipped down his cheeks. Reminding himself that it had been that long made his chest feel like it was going to cave in and suffocate him. Christian got up and stumbled into his bathroom. He kept the light off, but turned on the cold water. He couldn't keep doing this. He was so lost, no where was home anymore. He felt like a grain of sand trapped inside a hurricane. He felt as if he'd never be set down onto solid ground again. He felt sick and dizzy all the time. He knew it wasn't healthy, knew that'd he be the first one to tell the other boys to get it together. But this was all his fault. He had done this to himself.

Christian had asked him if going back was a good idea. He had told Christian to go ahead and do whatever made the blonde Canadian happy. Christian never anticipated hurting him, never thought about how an old friend would shatter his and Christian's world. Christian wanted to go back for the opportunities, never considering how the distance and one hazy night would destroy Christian's phenomenal one chance at happiness. He was so innocent and sweet. He had given Christian his everything. And Christian had promised him undying love when Christian slipped that silver band on his left ring finger. Even now the blonde usually kept it tucked under his shirt. Feeling it against his skin didn't hurt as much as having it reflect and gleam into his eyes. He splashed his flushed face with ice water. As long as the day was starting he figured he'd start as well. He did have a plane to catch in a little while.

The random arenas every night didn't help him feel anymore at home. But the only home he'd ever known had been in a pair of Georgia arms. Christian honestly didn't know how he was still able to do this.

The locker room was empty, which he almost appreciated. He still avoided Adam like he was a disease. Every time he looked at his one time friend the ring scalded his chest under his shirt. A ball of laughter bounced the door open, but it quickly deflated.

"Hey Christian, what's up dude?" Jeff pulled him in for a hug. Christian's arms remained lifeless at his sides.

The younger Hardy pulled back no longer offended. This had become routine, Jeff was determined to get Christian to hug him back like he used to. Despite the support of his friends it was clear Christian was not getting any better.

"Skittles I got your I-pod from Matt," Chris slipped his arms around Jeff's waist. "He says thanks for the Pearl Jam songs." The blonde laid butterfly kisses on the tattoo decorating Jeff's neck.

"Thanks Chris," the colorful southern boy gently shook him off. He glanced at Christian and discreetly brushed Chris' hand as he took his I-pod.

"So how was your couple days off?" Chris asked.

"Fine. I finally got that closet organized," his fellow Canadian replied busying himself with putting his gear in his locker.

Jeff bit his bottom lip staring intently at Christian. He had watched the spark burn out of his friend's eyes, but was powerless to do anything for him.

The quiet in the room was deafening to Christian. It was forced and unnatural. Jeff and Chris were the liveliest people he knew. And when they were together their energy could hardly be contained. They complimented each other and balanced each other. When the world ended and the sky fell down they'd be standing side by side getting the other through it. They'd already weathered their fair share of storms and were better because of them. Christian's whole life had dropped out from under him and he felt like he was falling again. He couldn't get his breath and was getting light headed. He had to get out to solid ground. He slammed his locker and rushed outside. He was more stable in the hall, but he couldn't keep doing this. He hurried down to the pit and trudged up the steel steps backstage to the rafters and lighting scaffolds. He sat down letting his legs dangle over the edge. Resting his head against the cool metal of the structures could not freeze the visions and the phantom words playing like nightmares in his mind. He saw the best pieces of his life flash before him; he heard the most beautiful unmistakable soft southern drawl. He would gladly agree to death if it meant he'd hear that voice for real. He'd jump from this very ledge at this very moment if his Angel would be the one that led him to Heaven.

God, he couldn't keep doing this.


End file.
